So, and before you start if you’ve noticed, I begin quite a few things with a “So”, it’s not your concern as to why … that’s all you Jill and your virtual red markers, so miss you.
So, in a conversation with a dear friend of mine, a one who came about being dear unintentionally, a friend who came to be dear through memory of a long passed time and particular place held close but where then she was just there until she bubbled heavy metal attitude up somehow years later into a now where you send thoughts and talk stuff into the wee and even sometimes throw random banana’s and silly fluffy or not fluffy life pictures at each other.
I told her that my sister had gifted me some spider plants. Two of them. I asked if she could get my stretch of a name of the two as I knew she would, plus you name things. Plants, cars “BB”, some of the third bay nameless garage cats here, you name things, BW, Lumpy, Penny, the most appropriate “Ghost” underneath a truck and out in a blink with your mere presence, “Li’l O” out the back porch, everything with a name, a point of reference, a something for the hello to furry things and even the inanimate things that mean so much for such stupid reasons.
Erica and Sid. My new Spider plants.
She got it, even though it was a stretch to take a step from Arachnid to Erica and Ned, but she knew what I meant proving why dear is dear.
She also said I should hang them if could, ’cause the cats might get to nibbling, though that belies permanence. I don’t have hanging things or walls.
Hold on … pause … completely off topic … now that’s a breeze rolling up hills, this one included, to an open window that calls of breezes that fight with indoor fans in the best of ways … just to my left at this most perfect time of year … not a quite too hot that still allows breezes fan fights with a Bella cat in her cat seat and a me in my PC chair and the best place I’ve ever had for words and a nose … take a sec … a nose … breezes that smell of … everything …
Ok, back to things at hand.
My ex mother-in-law, Mrs P, gave Danielle and I a plant/small tree from her and Mr P’s house for our first apartment. We had a perfect room in an old new third top floor place just inside a small balcony where it could get some light and a little bit of love. Mrs P gave it to us because it just kind of sat below a window in the dining room there at the house without much attention. I could almost imagine it sad, you could say it looked Charlie Brown.
That room where the balcony was was just so, it was just so, was so perfect and where my computer was in early computer days and also where there were two old Victorian looking tall back yellow leather pimpled chairs that for the life of me I can’t remember where they came from, they just were, they just existed, like they were only floating in space waiting until an apartment and newlyweds with cats appeared around them, and they were the most perfect Benny and Merlin spots (my first Christmas new place present to Danielle … though really only to myself) to lay on dreaming cat dreams. One in each. I named that plant/tree Heckett and placed him between those yellow tall backed floating Victorian looking chairs not too far from the window and the balcony.
I was home alone a lot then as I was doing a morning radio gig and Danielle was doing a sort of 9 or 10 to 7 in a little cigar shop at Station Square in Pittsburgh.
Well, in that quiet I took to writing and smoke breaks and writing and smoke breaks and thoughts out onto the balcony and found myself talking to myself and to kittens and to Heckett … a lot. I guess that might have been my beginning of crazy cat lady guy days huh?
Anyway, I said to Mrs P one day on a visit for dinner and to hang out and go for a walk with Fish, the dog, I so loved that dog in my brief, he gave me nose kisses and trusted me and appreciated I think when I would place myself between him and sometimes too fast suburban cars, I said Heckett was the coolest of things. I never expected that I said.
Mrs P: You never expected what?
Me: The flowers
Mrs P: The flowers?
Me: Yeah, the flowers blooming off branches. Petals everywhere. Benny and Merlin were covered in ‘em this morning
Mrs P: (taken aback) Really?! He never bloomed anything here
Well ok then. Maybe there is something to words I thought, words out loud that you bounce off cats and plant/trees named Heckett when you’re alone but not feeling like you’re too talking to yourself crazy cause at least you’re not the only one in the room. I wrote a poem about it years later that I just can’t seem to find whenever I remember, like now (still can’t find it) whenever I go for a search, though that is probably for the best.
Time and altered memory surely make it much better than it was, and it was most probably crap. I’ll leave it be, though I still remember the title “Heckett Bloomed Flowers He Never Knew”.
Yeah, it was definitely more than just probably crap.
I don’t know what became of Heckett in the back and forth of eventual broken things and the just too much, just too much (I kept the cats by the way) but Erica and Ned? I’ve heard spider plants have their moments of being replenishers.
At least that’s what Beck says.
I’ll have talk to them about it.